Page 71 of The Spirit Key
“Okay. Now, this thing inside of Tim feeds on his anger and resentment. The more dark emotions he has, the easier it will be for it to take control. What Sofia would do in this instance no longer matters. It’s whatyoumust do. Tim is your lock, so obviously whatever happens has to come from his key. Sofia doesn’t share a bond with Tim or you, so only you can work out a solution to your problems.”
I glanced in the direction that Tim had gone. “I should go after him.” I held out my hand and was surprised when George took it and pulled me into a hug.
“Thank you, Scott. I never would have thought I’d meet a lock and key, or that they would be such wonderful people. In all my years, I sometimes doubted they were real. It’s good to know that when my time comes, you might be there to help me if I need it.”
I squeezed him tight. “Ifthe time comes, Iwillbe there. You’ve got my word.”
He let go, and we both took a step back. I liked the fact that I’d made a friend who had helped, not because he wanted something, but because he saw worth in me as a person and as the key.
I took a piece of paper from the counter and scribbled my number down on it. “If you ever need me, give a call, okay?”
“Of course. And my phone is the same number as the shop, so you can get that online. Now go find Timbo.”
When I got to the front of the store, Tim was standing against the wall. He was trembling, but when I went over and reached for him, he stepped away from me.
“Don’t.” His voice was tight, his skin chalky.
“What’s wrong?”
He straightened, his shoulders thrown back. “I need you to just leave, okay?”
Now he was scaring me. “What? No, it’s not okay. What the hell is wrong with you?”
He held up his palms, and I could see rivulets of blood where his nails had scored the skin. “Right now it’s taking everything in me not to lash out at you.”
“I’m sorry I upset you, but I learned—”
His face contorted in rage. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you learned! You risked your life on this bullshit. And now you’re telling me that you want to continue on, even though it means we—you—will die sooner? You’re okay with us not having a life together?” He slammed his hand against the wall, cracking the plaster. “I’m not! If this is how you want our life to be, then you can just pack up your shit and go back to Chicago, because I’m not interested.”
I couldn’t believe Tim was saying that. Don’t get me wrong, I knew we’d have to discuss it, but to be honest, I thought he’d approach the conversation with an open mind.
Just as I was about to say we could work this out if we talked it through, something caught my attention. Tim’s eyes, normally warm brown, like hot cocoa, were ice blue.
“Tim?”
He grinned. “I see you’ve figured it out. Tim’s not home anymore. This body is mine, and I have you to thank for it.” He took a step toward me, and I shrank back, no longer certain that Tim could stop him. “Every time you’ve done something to upset him or make him angry? That opened the lock a little more for me. Oh, he says he loves you, but that emotion is laced with the darkness you helped to infect him with. Think back to all the things you did that made him feel weak, made him doubt himself or doubt you. This? What you did tonight? That left him wide open. He’s given up completely, and now I’m in control.”
What the hell could I do? “Tim? I love you.”
For the briefest of moments, I saw brown eyes again, and I had hope. Then he blinked, and they were blue once more.
“He no longer loves you, because you betrayed him too many times. He no longer cares what happens, so he’s surrendered to me. And I have so many uses for this body. Did you know there is a shelter not far from here? Tim goes on occasion to make a donation. His heart would break at seeing those poor children, dirty, ragged, smelly, and he wished he could do something for them.” He stroked a hand over his chest, smearing blood on his shirt. “Well, now he can. He can give them the gift of peace as he takes their lives.”
He moved for the door, but I stood in front of him. He flashed me a grin, so unlike any I’d ever seen from him. That came less than a second before he balled his hand into a fist and punched me in the face.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long. In fact, why stop there?”
The next hit was to my stomach, then another to my face. Blood trickled down my chin, but that didn’t even give him pause. Over and over he rained blows down on me, knocking me to my knees. When George came rushing from the back room, Tim turned toward him.
“And you. I’m not sure if I should be thanking you or killing you, because without your help, Tim would never have taken that final step. I shouldn’t waste time, but I can’t really leave without showing you my appreciation.”
Tim leaped at George, wrapped his fingers around George’s throat, and squeezed. George gasped for breath, his eyes bugging out. I tried to get up, but Tim wasn’t a weak man, and those punches had taken a lot out of me. Still, I couldn’t let him do something he would regret if—when—I got him back.
I rose to my feet and lurched toward Tim. My ribs throbbed with each step, and I wondered if Tim had done some internal damage. I grabbed his arm, and he hissed like I’d burned him. He dropped George and turned his attention back to me.
“Do you want to know how much Tim hates you?” He reached out and twisted his fingers in my hair, then yanked me forward until we were face-to-face. “With every fiber of his being, he loathes you. He wishes you had never come back, because you make him want things he knows now he can never have. He wanted a home, maybe a family with you. Now? You’ve destroyed his dreams, and he wishes you had died.”
And then he started waling on me again. He knocked me to the ground, then kicked me in the ribs. After several sharp blows, he bent over, grabbed my arm, and stomped on my elbow. I tried to bite back the agony that shot through me, but I screamed long and loud. And Tim stood there and smiled.
